


Depuis Le Debut

by booklover160



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booklover160/pseuds/booklover160
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started like any other case. But this one was anything but normal. And with the appearance of another hunter, things won't be easy for the Winchester brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depuis Le Debut

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm not sure why I started this... Boredom, perhaps. Maybe because I adore Supernatural so much.
> 
> The title means 'since the beginning' and is taken from a brand-new 30 Seconds to Mars song of the same title. The lyrics remind me very much of Supernatural. 
> 
> Anyway, this takes place in the early stages of Season 4!

It started as a normal case. Castiel had shown up, given an address, and left without warning. Seeing as the brothers had nothing better to do at the moment, Sam and Dean piled into the Impala and took off for rural Illinois.

The sun had nearly set when they arrived. Even Dean was glad to leave the Impala to stretch his legs. As Sam stretched, Dean winced as he heard nearly every bone pop or crack in his back.

“Damn, I wish Cas would give us more info than an address.” Dean muttered, opening the motel door for Sam. Using one of their many fraudulent credit cards, they bought a room for a few nights, unknowing how long the job would take.

“Dude, just relax.” Sam, propped up with a book in bed, rolled his eyes at Dean pacing the floor.

“I don’t like going into this blind. Dammit.” Dean swore as he threw his plaid shirt across the room, making it fly into his suitcase. Perfect bulls-eye. 

“We’ll check out the local papers tomorrow to see if anything strange has been going on.” Sam shrugged.

“And why are you being so damn casual about this?” Dean asked suspiciously. He eyed Sam carefully. His brother wasn’t asking questions or ‘rebelling authority’ (as Dean liked to call it) like usual.

“Cas gave us a job and I think we should give it a shot.” Sam bookmarked his page and went to turn out his bedside lamp. Dean, still frustrated, climbed into bed and roughly yanked the chain to turn out his light.

\--

“Hey look at this.” Sam turned the newspaper so Dean could see in the diner. Mouth full of pancakes, Dean slowly chewed as he read the small article Sam pointed out.

“’Local Psychic Boy Purifying Ghosts’?” Dean almost wanted to smack Sam. The whole thing looked like a scam, and if it looked like a scam, it probably was.

“There’s nothing else… strange going on.” Sam lowered his voice and snatched the paper back. He flipped though a few more pages as he finished his oatmeal.

“Dude, you eat salads all the time for lunch and dinner. Couldn’t you live a little with breakfast?” Dean shook his head at his brother. Sometimes he couldn’t believe they were related.

“What’s wrong with oatmeal?” Sam frowned.

Before Dean would fully express his distaste with Sam’s healthy food choices, a girl walked in. She looked no older than Sam, with long dark hair and brown eyes. She saw them and headed over.

“My name’s Natalie. We mutual friend; Bobby Singer.” She ginned at their confused faces. She slid into the booth next to Dean, forcing him to scoot over unwillingly.

“Who are you?” Sam asked. Natalie sighed.

“Bobby never mentioned me? Didn’t think so…” She muttered the last bit with a sad smile. “Name is Natalie Grace, 23 years old, been a hunter for about 10 years after my parents died and left me in the care of their hunter friend, Bobby Singer.”

“Wait so, Bobby raised you?” Dean asked, leaning back to get another look at the girl. She turned to look right back at Dean. His eyes skimmed her heart-shaped face to her leather jacket with a worn purple t-shirt underneath, down to her skinny jeans tucked into combat boots. She had a few extra pounds of muscle from her ‘line of work’.

“Not really, seeing as I was already 13. But he did a damn good job of turning me into a hunter.” She smirked. 

“Can I getcha anything darlin’?” The waitress came up, interrupting the interview. Natalie ordered whole grain waffles, to Dean’s chagrin. Was he the only one left in the world who ate unhealthy?

“Why are you here?” Sam asked after the waitress was out of hearing range.

“Bobby gave me a call, said you guys were coming by. I live around here, got a few extra rooms, was wondering if you’d like some help.” She shrugged.

“We work alone.” Dean tried not to snap at the girl. He was sure she was nice and all, but extras almost always got in the way.

“I ain’t new to this rodeo.” She snapped, a slight southern twang in her voice, no doubt picked up from Bobby. “I could really help you.”

“I’m sure you could—” Dean started but she cut him off.

“Do you even know where he lives?” She asked, taking the paper from Sam. Natalie read the article again and then looked up at the boys. They glanced at each other quietly.   
“Thought so.”

“But we don’t need your help.” Dean insisted.

“Well listen here buddy-boy; you’re getting my help whether you like it or not.” Accepting the waffles from the waitress, Natalie dug in.

“What do you know about… Nathan Bradley?” Sam checked the kid’s name from the paper. Sitting a little straighter, Natalie swallowed her breakfast and leaned in.

“Nathan Bradley is a 17 year old kid going to Lincoln High School. He claims to have been seeing ghosts since he was a kid, and after ‘honing his skills’ he can now ‘purify’ ghosts.” They clearly heard the sarcasm as she told them about the kid.

“So he can’t purify ghosts?” Dean was confused. Was there a job here or not?

“No, but he is psychic. A dangerous psychic. He’s been creating the symptoms of a ghost himself then pretending to ‘purify’ it. But he’s starting to get more and more daring with the things he does.” Natalie grabbed Sam’s water glass and drained it quickly.

“What do you mean?” Sam bit his lip to keep from pouting.

“Well last week his version of a ghost was shaking the furniture a little. This week? He apparently stopped a ghostly attempt on murder.” She stood then, throwing a few dollar bills on the table. Following her lead, the boys paid for their food and left.

“He lives not too far from me. About a block or two away.” Natalie walked down the street towards the neighborhoods. “And really, I have two spare rooms. I inherited my parents’ old house and I live alone.” 

“Beats that motel. Hoses have more water pressure than that shower.” Sam muttered as they followed the girl they knew for less than an hour to her house.

But nothing could have prepared them for this case.


End file.
